A/N Hello again, dear readers! I apologize for the long delay in updating - the last few months have been exhausting and it took me a while to find time enough to just be able to sit down and write. I appreciate everyone's patience very much! Thank you to JediScribe for being my beta for this chapter! :D
And when I tell you, that I TRIED... to keep this chapter under 12,000 words, believe me. I tried. I did. Chapter 4 is literally going to be the second half of THIS chapter because I cut it in half. So... yeah. Enjoy another monster chapter from yours truly. :)
Summary: Things almost always get worse before they get better.
Chapter Three: The Challenge of Mercy
09:17 Hours
Nelona 5th, Galactic Standard Time
SSD Executor, Main Bridge
The wide hexagonal doors of the Executor's bridge were closed as Luke approached. He nodded a greeting to the two men that were standing guard and flashed his security badge to show that he was allowed up here, on that small off chance that they didn't know who he was. The two men glanced at each other and then one of them keyed a passcode into the number pad on the wall. After a moment, the doors slid open silently and Luke stepped inside.
Immediately, the entire bridge grew quiet as all eyes turned towards him.
It was a circular shaped room, with massive viewports at the front that looked out into space, and two elongated pits that were set below the floor level. A walkway divided the two sections for superior officers to walk along and have an unobstructed view of everyone who was working below. Luke had been informed, the last and only time he'd been here, that the consoles had previously been aligned parallel to the walkway and only recently had they changed the design of it.
A useless tidbit of information that had been offered to him by Commander Gherant, who had been attempting, quite awkwardly, to make small talk with him. Luke shook his head at the memory and then looked around.
On a normal day, there was no reason for him to ever come up here and today, Luke had invited himself. He was allowed to do so but he was also aware that being allowed to go where he wanted didn't necessarily mean that he would be welcome wherever he went.
It only took him a few seconds to spot the superior officers that were on shift tonight and he waited to catch someone's attention. They were at the front of the room near the viewports. After a few seconds, he briefly made eye contact with Admiral Piett, who seemed to be deep in discussion with General Veers and the Rear Admiral… Charineau, Luke remembered after a few seconds of thought.
He was getting better at remembering names.
Piett's expression didn't give away any of his emotions. Instead, he merely raised his eyebrows and in response, Luke silently gestured with a finger to ask if he could cross the walkway. The admiral nodded once and then raised a finger at him as if to say give me a moment before returning to his conversation.
Luke nodded absently and it didn't escape his notice that everyone down below was staring openly at him while at the same time trying to avoid eye contact. Luke did his best to appear unbothered by the attention he was attracting as he walked across the walkway.
The blatant staring wasn't as intense as it had been previously… but Luke was still tired of feeling like a spectacle to be stared at. No one outside of command staff and the clones that he'd been introduced to seemed to know what to do with him. Those few people who might have been inclined to say hello… didn't. Luke suspected that they were too nervous on account of who his father was.
Which was fine. Luke hadn't come here to make friends. But… he couldn't deny that it would be nice to just… not be the constant center of attention. His fame in the rebellion was a lot different than his notoriety in the Empire.
Turning away from those thoughts, Luke spied a particular viewport that instantly attracted his attention. For one thing, it was an empty space where he wouldn't be intruding… and it also felt like his father. He drifted closer towards it, tilting his head and trying to get a sense of the faint imprints of emotions that were lingering in the Force. It was a mixture of feelings, Luke realized after a moment. Some faint underlying frustration and anger that was typical for Vader… but mostly contemplative. His father must spend a lot of time in this spot, for feelings like these to become so noticeable.
Luke stepped closer and then leaned against the durasteel frame, staring out into space. Both Endor and the Death Star were in sight. The sight of it had become familiar to him but it still had the ability to make his heart pound.
A moon beside a moon, Luke thought quietly. It hadn't taken him very long to figure out that part of his vision. It was incredible, the amount of progress that had been made on the damn thing even in just the short time he'd been here. Incredible and frightening.
He couldn't help but wonder if that was what Vader thought about when he was up here too. Because even now, weeks later, Luke was no better at guessing what went on inside his father's head than he had been at the start of their partnership.
Which was fine. He didn't actually need to know. Luke had found that he understood his father just fine without everything having to be said between them and he was willing to be patient for those things that Vader was reluctant to tell him. He was curious though… ever since his arrival in the Empire, he couldn't help but notice that every few days, his father seemed to just start the day in a horribly bad mood.
He was angry, for no perceivable reason. It was completely different from his usual sullen wrath that Luke had slowly grown accustomed to. Vader was never willing to talk about what it was that set him off and he would snap at Luke on those occasions where he dared to ask what was wrong.
Fortunately for both of them, that was about as close to being angry at Luke that Vader ever got.
Not that they got along perfectly because they didn't. Luke shook his head slightly, huffing silently at that grand idea. He and Vader had already had more than their fair share of spats with each other, most of which stemmed from their rather extreme differences of opinion in… well, almost everything. That, and they were just two people who were experiencing all the same annoyances that came when learning to live with and share a space with someone new. None of it ever erupted into something ugly or unbearable though.
At worst, Luke got to work on his skill of listening to and enjoying someone's company whom he didn't always agree with; and Luke would freely admit to anyone that asked that he did enjoy Vader's company. He had enjoyed it back in the mines when everything between him and the rebellion had first fallen apart and when their tentative truce had started, and he enjoyed it even more now, over a month later.
It helped that both of them wanted it to work. Whatever annoying idiosyncrasies they experienced with each other seemed to mostly disappear in favor of what they knew that they had together. Which, at least on Luke's end, was a lot. It wasn't a question of credits or practicality either. Vader just seemed to want him to have what he wanted.
He'd never had access to anything before so it wasn't hard to not take advantage of the generosity... and if his father would just let him, Luke would tell him that the knowledge he'd been given of his mother alone made everything that he was enduring now completely worth it. Luke had been soaking up all the information that he could about Padmé in his spare time, reading everything he had about both her private and public life. Her achievements and failures - anything and everything that was available to him, fascinated and awed by this woman who had given him life.
Luke had even discovered, after doing some research, that he had a number of living relatives on her side of the family still living on Naboo. It fascinated him to think that he wasn't as alone as he had once thought and he wondered if he dared to introduce himself to them one day.
If he did, he had already decided that it wouldn't be until after he and Vader had confronted Palpatine. It didn't seem fair for Luke to show up randomly in their lives and then have to tell them that he might not come back. For now, he was content to keep his distance and knowing they existed. He had even had a picture of his mother that he kept on his person, tucked in an inner shirt pocket in a place near his heart.
It made Luke feel complete, somehow. To finally know who both of his parents were and to understand where he had come from. To realize that he wasn't a nobody. That he had been wanted and loved and that his lineage meant something. That he had a legacy to live up to.
Coming to terms with who Anakin had ultimately become was tricky, in that regard. There was a messy and disturbing reality that he had to contend with. His birth had prompted mass genocide and brought about the downfall of the Republic. His father had done monstrous things and Luke was a byproduct of him. There was a deep sense of shame that came with that, which Luke couldn't ignore but had no desire to talk about either.
He had decided to put it away for now, in favor of the bigger picture. He was choosing to see Anakin instead of Vader… because those things about his father that were good … they still existed. Deep down, it was all still there. Luke had come from good people. Who had loved and been loved and he was determined to exemplify the very best parts of both his parents.
For all of his many wrongs, his father was passionate, fearless, and forthright. And his mother… Luke thought of all the things that he had learned and smiled softly to himself. Padmé had been wise, discerning, and kind-hearted.
Those were the qualities he wanted to embody and he thought that if he was able to do that… then maybe he could end up being the kind of Jedi that he wanted to be as well.
His father was turning out to be a ruthless and powerful instructor with a commanding presence that Luke had grown to respect immensely. His knowledge of the Force seemed unparalleled. His father didn't always give him a straight answer to his questions but unlike Yoda, he never seemed frustrated that Luke had a question in the first place. He seemed pleased by Luke's thought processes and said his curiosity was evidence that he was engaged and learning.
Without the mind games and cryptic… well, everything… Luke had made swift progress and advanced through the basic aspects of dueling without much difficulty, just as his father had promised. Vader's willingness to teach him extended into all aspects of the Force - he was forthright and honest in all of his opinions and he didn't hide anything about how the Jedi had run their Order. Luke had a much better understanding of the structure of the whole thing than he'd had previously, as well as the thought processes that had contributed to the Jedi's rules and standards.
Yoda had stressed to him that Jedi were supposed to be detached. Separate from government affiliations and to deny themselves of meaningful relationships. Devoid of deep feelings. Of extreme passions. Agents of the Force and nothing else.
Under his father's training, Luke was a little more willing to admit to himself that he didn't want to do that. He already had attachments. People that he loved and who he would do anything to protect, his father included. He couldn't in good conscience just let all of that go. It might be the way of the Jedi but it wasn't the way of the Desert.
In fact, it ran so completely parallel with how Luke was raised and with everything he believed that he was slowly coming to the conclusion that the Jedi might have actually been… wrong.
He couldn't say for certain… but the idea made his father being entirely dismissive of the Jedi themselves a little easier to endure. Not all of his criticisms seemed to be without cause. Unlike with Yoda, Vader was just giving him full knowledge and understanding of what it had all been about and he could care less about whether or not Luke abided by their rules. Everything he did now was his choice and he didn't run the risk of offending anyone or losing the ability to train and learn either.
Luke understood, he really did, the reasoning and the fear that the Jedi had had of such things. Vader was a pretty damn good example of how it could all go wrong, after all - but… the Force didn't whisper about detaching himself from his feelings. If anything, it constantly seemed to reaffirm to him that they were important. Why else would it go through such lengths to tell him that his father needed him? That this path was alright, that loving his father would never be the wrong choice?
Honestly… whenever Luke sat down to think about it in depth, it seemed as though the Jedi and the Force were separate entities entirely. Some things did and then also didn't line up.
It just… made him think that the old Jedi Order couldn't be the only way. There had to be more. A better way, even. Maybe… if it wasn't too arrogant of him to consider… then maybe when all of this was over, he could try and rebuild it. Taking the good and undoing the bad and unnecessary aspects of it all.
Maybe.
He had to get there first. He still needed to become a Jedi Knight. Which, to be quite honest, felt much more achievable with Vader teaching him than it ever had with Yoda.
There was still a long way to go… and a very short amount of time to get there, Luke thought quietly, his eyes once again drifting towards the ever developing Death Star. He just hoped it would be enough to get them through their confrontation with Palpatine alive.
A period of time passed by, with Luke distracted by his own thoughts and the quiet hum of work and chatter that was taking place. Everything felt so orderly here. If he wasn't so stressed, it would almost be soothing enough to meditate. Luke was willing to bet that that was one of the reasons his father enjoyed it here as well. A calm place to think in the midst of his own near-constant raging storm of feelings and emotions.
Luke made a mental note to ask him later; for now, he kept his attention away from his father, resisting the urge to check and see if all was well. The faintest whispers of warning had been making themselves known to him for the last hour or so and he suspected it wouldn't go away until he could speak with his father again. All he could do was ignore it the best that he could.
There was a sudden increase in the volume of nearby voices and Luke glanced over his shoulder and watched for a moment as Admiral Piett's discussion seemed to wrap up at last. The Rear Admiral shook Veers' hand and patted Piett on the shoulder before glancing once in Luke's direction and offering him a single nod of acknowledgement before making a quiet exit from the bridge with three other people following him.
General Veers glanced briefly in Luke's direction as well, his gray eyes hard and uninviting. Although… Luke was surprised when he felt a very faint sense of resentment and jealousy peeking through the ironclad mental shields that so many Imperials seemed to have.
It didn't surprise him in the least when Veers excused himself and left without saying anything to him. Most of the command staff made an effort to speak to him when the opportunity came around but in the month that he'd been onboard the Executor, Veers always stayed aloof and uninterested. Luke had gotten used to the cold shoulder and had chosen not to take it personally. Talking to the Butcher of Hoth wasn't high on his list of wants either- he would, if necessary. But this was easier.
Admiral Piett did not seem to share the same opinion; he glared in the direction that Veers had disappeared, clearly annoyed by his stubborn behavior. He schooled himself quickly, however, tucking his personal feelings out of sight and taking on an air of complete professionality as he turned to cross the short distance that was between them.
"Commander," the admiral greeted politely.
"Hello, Admiral," Luke said. "I hope I didn't disrupt anything earlier. It wasn't my intention."
"Even if you had, Lord Vader has made it clear that you can go where you please," Piett said in a tone that neither suggested that he approved or disapproved of the leniency that Luke was allowed. "That being said, since you are here… did you require any assistance?"
Luke shook his head slowly, letting his eyes wander back out the viewport. "No, but thank you for asking."
There was a faint, faint sense of discontent with his answer that caught him by surprise, as well as the slightest pursing of Piett's lips. Strange - that made for two people now. Luke was not used to sensing emotion from this particular group - they usually kept their inner thoughts and feelings hidden better.
Of course... the admiral was definitely not someone that appreciated unknowns, Luke thought with some small amusement. Perhaps that was the cause.
"My father sent me out," Luke admitted after a moment, shrugging his shoulders. "I didn't really have anywhere else to be."
Which, to be fair, was the truth.
Luke just didn't elaborate on the fact that he had sought some refuge up here because Vader had had to respond to a call from the Emperor.
It had been after their morning training session. Luke had been in the middle of eating breakfast in his father's office, leisurely enjoying Vader's company while he discussed Luke's progress over the last month when a holo messenger had flickered to life on the desk and impersonally announced an Incoming Call from Coruscant.
His father's mood had abruptly turned black with rage and Luke had barely had the chance to process the change before Vader had grabbed him by the arm and practically thrown him out into the hallway, snapping at him to make himself scarce and fast. Then he'd been locked out of their shared living space and cut off from their Force connection entirely.
Today was actually the first time in weeks that he'd been so completely disconnected from his father. It had become such a natural thing between them that to feel nothing at all felt very… wrong.
Luke wasn't certain how to process that… but such was the nature of Force connections, apparently. Theirs was unique and somewhat unprecedented, as well, making a strange situation even stranger.
A family connection, rather than a bond created between a teacher and a student, Vader had told him. What they shared between them had developed on its own, with no prompting from either of them. It was unusually powerful, according to his father. Though that could be because both of them were uniquely powerful in the Force.
Regardless.
The connection that they shared with each other was deep. Much deeper than Luke had originally realized, and in the last month, with all the time that they spent with each other, it had only grown stronger.
It was… indescribable, really… to be so completely connected to another person. To know what they felt and what they thought and to share a psychic connection that even a galaxy between them couldn't break. To know, even without words, how much he was loved and valued by another person. It was as beautiful as it was dangerous and Luke was continually becoming more and more aware of just how right he had been back in the Cimiento mines, when he'd acknowledged to himself that Vader had a unique power over him.
To feel so deeply about someone... a quiet part of Luke was afraid that he would get to a point where he would go to dangerous lengths, ignoring his own conscience and desire to become a Jedi Knight entirely, just to please him; especially in this situation where he was so dependent on Vader for companionship. And that said nothing about what he was already willing to do in defense of his father.
The Empire was ruthless and his father was as well. If Luke mirrored that quality, for whatever reason or however justified it might seem... then the only one who would notice or care would be himself. It took effort to continue to be a good person and hold to what he valued in a space that did not easily welcome the same. For as much as he believed in his own ideals, he couldn't deny that there was a temptation - a very human, very sentient temptation - with wanting to be accepted. To belong, somehow. It required a daily reminder to himself that he needed to be better than that. To not fall victim to what he knew was a very slippery slope.
"It's funny," Piett said after a long moment, interrupting his thoughts once again. Luke turned his head, meeting the admiral's eyes. "Lord Vader often spends time in this exact spot."
Luke felt a half-smile pull at his lips. "I know," he agreed quietly. "He likes it here."
Piett raised his eyebrows a small fraction. "I suppose he does." he said slowly. It almost seemed as though the idea of Vader liking anything had never crossed his mind.
As much respect as the people on the Executor seemed to hold for his father… Luke was coming to realize that none of them knew anything about him at all. He was viewed as more of an object - an idea, a… a representation of the Empire itself, rather than an individual person. No one saw any personality in him - no one saw anything, apparently.
It irritated Luke… but it mostly made him sad. It seemed like a lonely way to live.
He fell quiet, letting his eyes wander back to the Death Star and sensed the admiral doing the same. It was still between them for a few seconds.
"How are you adjusting, Commander?" Piett finally asked.
"I'm alright," Luke said honestly, shrugging his shoulders again. "It's all different but nothing that I can't handle."
"You aren't experiencing any trouble with the crew?"
"No, sir, not really. Things seem better than they had been a month or so ago, at least. Though I don't suppose you know how to make people stop staring at me?"
Piett huffed in quiet amusement. "Don't be famous."
Luke rolled his eyes. "I never asked to be," he said quietly. "It just sort of happened."
"That's usually how those things work. You'll figure it out though," the admiral said with a shrug. "If it helps... I do believe that we'll make a proper Imperial out of you yet. We are fortunate that your time in the Rebellion didn't completely ruin you."
Damn.
Luke glanced sideways at the admiral, mildly stunned by how blunt and forward the man could be. Imperials did not waste time beating around the bush and he could tell through the Force that Piett actually believed what he'd said.
There was no point in wasting energy towards being offended by it either. Imperials didn't care too much about hurting feelings; which Luke could appreciate. At least he always knew where he stood.
"Ha," Luke chuckled, shaking his head in baffled surprise. "I'm glad you think so. I only have a few terrorism charges to my name, after all."
"And we would all greatly appreciate it if you didn't add any more to that list."
Something… different flickered momentarily in the Force from Piett. An intensity or direction for their conversation that the admiral was very suddenly hoping that Luke would catch on to. It took him a moment before he pieced together what it was.
Part of Luke wanted to sigh and the other part was impressed. The admiral never stopped working. There was always some angle that he was taking advantage of, some deeper purpose to the little things that he did. Luke didn't think he'd ever met someone quite so calculating and brilliant. Other than his father, of course.
This was nothing but an innocuous interaction between the two of them… but it also had a small, supposedly trustworthy audience around to listen.
"Allow me to put your mind at ease," Luke said, willing to play along for the moment. "I have no interest in returning to the Rebellion. I'm done with them. My place is here with my father."
He was careful with the way he phrased his statement. He really wasn't a great liar and he was concerned that any declaration of loyalty to the Empire wouldn't sound sincere coming from him. That being said, Luke had no such concerns with saying that he was loyal to his father and it was fortunate, if not quite true, that loyalty to Vader was often mistaken as loyalty to the Empire.
Semantics, really.
He hoped Piett appreciated the effort. When a very faint sense of approval reached the edge of Luke's senses just a few seconds later, he knew it had paid off.
"Glad to hear it." The admiral said simply. Then he glanced down at the watch on his wrist, taking note of the time. "Forgive my abruptness but I think I'll leave you to it. Other matters require my attention right now. However, please know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. His Lordship's meetings with Coruscant have a tendency to run long sometimes."
Luke turned his head sharply, meeting Piett's cool gray eyes and feeling his brow furrow in confusion. How had he known that...? He didn't think his father would have had time to notify anyone that he was going to be busy.
Well. Actually. Maybe it shouldn't have been the surprise that it was, he realized slowly. If anyone on this ship would know about random, unplanned calls from Coruscant... it would be Admiral Piett. Luke had known a lot of impressive officers in his time with the Rebellion… but he couldn't think of a single one who would come close to matching Piett's level of competency.
The man might not be able to match Vader's stride… but Luke was certain that he would always be a few steps ahead of everyone else on this ship.
"Thanks," Luke said quietly, watching the admiral walk away. He glanced around the room once more, relieved that everyone seemed to have gotten over their initial surprise in seeing him show up and had gone back to work.
Breathing in slowly and then out once more, Luke began the process of slipping into a form of meditation in an attempt to ease his concerns….
10:04 Hours
Firmus walked away, leaving Skywalker to his own devices and willing to trust that he would know better than to get in anybody's way.
He did not particularly appreciate the idea of anyone having the notion that they could just walk onto his bridge whenever they pleased. This was a professional environment and he did not want the work and efficiency that they did here to be disrupted by someone who was unaware of their ways and who had the ability to cause a stir simply by existing.
With that thought in mind… he was willing to admit that Skywalker himself had yet to be a great disturbance to anyone on board. He typically made an effort to be mindful of his surroundings and nondisruptive to staff. None of the issues that Firmus had had to deal with thus far to accommodate him and keep him out of harm's way were of his own doing. There was still a great deal of discontent with his presence on the Executor; anyone who killed a million and a half people in a single shot had virtually no chance of coming across anyone in the Empire who wasn't personally affected by it. A month, a year, ten years - it didn't matter. Someone was always going to be angry.
In this instance, where Lord Vader was being detained by the Emperor, Firmus would rather that Skywalker be here than anywhere else unaccompanied. Since, for some reason or another, Skywalker had declined security. It was Firmus' main point of contention with the kid; he found it blatantly rude and inconsiderate of both himself and everyone else on the ship that was working overtime to make sure that nothing happened to him while he was here.
Firmus had already ordered the executions of more than fifteen loyal Imperial officers in the last month alone - and he was certain that there would be more required of him in the future. The small interaction that he'd had with the kid just now was proof enough that he was not unintelligent. That Skywalker could be so… dismissive and ignorant of the efforts being made on his behalf was frustrating.
At least he was quiet.
Firmus hadn't actually seen him all that often since his arrival. Maybe twice a week at best. The kid kept busy with Lord Vader for the most part but would occasionally show up to some upper staff meetings and sit in to learn. It helped seal the idea with other members of staff that were unaware of the coup against the Emperor that Skywalker really had turned Empire.
Which was a good thing because Skywalker needed all the help that he could get in that category.
Even if the belief that Skywalker had turned traitor on the Rebellion was becoming accepted, it had yet to seal anyone's approval of him. In fact, most of the crew held the opinion that Skywalker was too soft and therefore, weak… and weakness was a bad trait to have in the Empire.
Skywalker's unique title as Lord Vader's son was protecting him to some small extent but Firmus couldn't deny the fact that there was a boundary being explored right now among officers. What they could and couldn't get away with; and Skywalker, damn him, was a little too tolerant of it all. Firmus was aware of almost everything that was being said. He received daily updates and reports from the Communications department and he knew it wasn't just the crew staring at him that was bothering Skywalker. Honestly, Firmus would be fine with the kid making waves on the Executor as long as they were the right ones. He needed to stand up for himself now and then instead of letting everything slide.
There was even a good portion of the crew that was developing the opinion that Skywalker couldn't possibly be Lord Vader's son because they just weren't anything alike.
They expected someone fierce. Dangerous.
Not… polite and mild and relatively friendly with everyone that he came across.
Firmus and a few others were some of the only ones that really understood that Skywalker was more than what he seemed, even if he had yet to see anything himself that convinced him of that truth. The kid was quiet, sure… but the idea of strength in the Empire, particularly among elites, had a strange tendency to actually be nothing more than boasting. If one was loud enough, pompous enough, proud enough… then they were mistaken for being powerful. If someone could turn heads when they walked in a room, if they had a certain number of credits, or if the sound of their name struck fear… then it was all easily mistaken for power.
Skywalker didn't boast but he could walk into a room full of people that hated him and keep a straight back. He didn't feel the need to force opinions of him to change and he wasn't easily intimidated either, which meant that he was secure enough in the idea that he could somehow come out on top in a bad situation.
It was quiet confidence.
Firmus appreciated that in a person.
It was just that not everyone was smart enough to recognize it for what it was.
Really, Skywalker was a lot more like Lord Vader than anyone was giving him credit for because truly powerful people had nothing to prove to anyone. Unfortunately, Firmus was fairly confident that Skywalker was going to have to prove it to someone at some point. Shedding blood was sometimes the only way to bring an end to conflict.
The next hour or so passed by in relative silence, with only the typical workplace chatter and communications taking place. Curiously, Skywalker didn't move from Lord Vader's "brooding" spot, as some of the bolder bridge members called it whenever the Supreme Commander wasn't around to hear. In fact, at some point, he sat down on the ground directly beside the viewport, reclining somewhat against the edge of the frame itself and drawing one leg up into his chest. Firmus resisted the urge to be critical and think that someone of Skywalker's standing shouldn't be sitting on the damn floor.
Someone else clearly had the same thought and actually got up to offer him a chair to sit in - it was politely declined - and honestly, as long as he was content and out of trouble, Firmus decided that it didn't matter. He would pick his battles.
Instead, Firmus spent some time opening a spot in his schedule in order to accommodate an unexpected request from a Grand Admiral about an under the table meeting with Lord Vader. The Supreme Commander himself had seemed rather curious about whatever had prompted the petition but had ultimately delegated it to Firmus to find out what it was about.
He had a faint hope that perhaps it would bear fruit for their plans in regards to the Empire. If there was anyone that he could pick to have on their side as they moved against the Emperor… then this particular Imperial would be invaluable.
It would be an additional six warships, at the very least. Firmus sighed. He couldn't actually make plans for their involvement until things were set in stone. Right now, nothing was certain except that the Grand Admiral wanted to meet.
Outside of that meeting, what Firmus really wanted was more information on the second Death Star. The original flaw in the design by Galen Erso had been rectified prior to the beginning of construction and they needed to find a new way to destroy it. He'd done the math and quite simply, the armada that was loyal to Lord Vader wouldn't be enough to launch an effective attack on the Death Star and defend against the rest of the Imperial Fleet at the same time. There was also a good chance that the weapons system would be ready before construction was finished.
The shield generator was the only thing he was confident that they could take out on their own. A task force of Lord Vader's men being sent down to the Endor moon in order to protect the generator wouldn't be questioned by anyone.
It was still too many variables though. Too many unknowns.
He'd expressed concerns about it to Lord Vader more than once already and frustratingly, Lord Vader did not seem to share the same. If anything, he seemed rather confident that everything would fall into place the way that it should and that they would get the information that they needed when the time was right.
Until then. He was stuck with dealing with the details of their coup and not having all the information required to execute it.
All Firmus could do was take it one day at a time.
It was mere happenstance, only a few minutes later, when Firmus looked up to survey the room, that he saw Skywalker's body language change. It was a subtle thing - very controlled and easy to miss if one didn't know what to look for - but the kid suddenly went from a fairly relaxed position to stiff and tense in an instant.
Skywalker lifted his head and turned around, slowly and quietly getting to his feet once again, blue eyes searching his immediate surroundings with a caution that hadn't been present when he first arrived on the Bridge. After a few seconds, Skywalker shook his head and scrubbed his jaw before turning back to stare out the viewport once again.
Firmus watched him for a moment or two, feeling his brow furrow in slight confusion. No one else seemed to have noticed. He stood up from his workspace, intending to take a few minutes to circle around the room himself and see if anything was out of place. He didn't get very far though.
"Admiral?"
He stopped mid-step, biting back a sigh of irritation. He squared his shoulders as he turned to face a lower ranking officer who was approaching him. "Yes?"
"Before you go… would you mind signing off on this, Sir? It's the asteroid impact predictions for Endor for this next week. There are some warships that are going to need to be moved from their current orbits."
"Of course," Firmus said tightly, taking the datapad and briefly scrolling through the contents before using his finger to sign a quick and illegible signature down at the bottom. Why did someone always need something at the most inconvenient time? "Anything else?"
"No, Sir."
"Then please make sure that these are sent to the corresponding ships and inform them to contact their Space Traffic Control operators so that the Fleet can plan accordingly."
"Yes, Sir, and thank you."
Two additional people approached him with questions before he managed to make it halfway around the room. Once he'd addressed their concerns, he descended into the Pits and slowly walked through the work stations, monitoring things carefully but finding nothing and no one that was out of place. He was confident that no one on the Bridge would be stupid enough to say or do anything of a negative nature towards Skywalker - at least not while there was active Command Staff present. The consequences of doing so had been made very clear at the beginning of each shift change briefing for the last month.
Firmus was coming up out of the Pits again a few minutes later, feeling a little more at ease, when he glanced back towards Skywalker. He was actively looking around the room again, a cautious expression on his face. Curiously, his head tilted to the side slightly… almost as if he were trying to listen to something. It was strange. Not a behavior that he had seen from the kid before and as harmless as it was to look around a room... it wasn't sitting well with him either.
He approached, keeping his body language relaxed and offered Skywalker a nod when he glanced towards him near the end of his approach.
"Everything alright?"
"Admiral," Skywalker said, his expression giving away none of his inner thoughts. "I just... wanted to thank you for your time and let you know that I'll be heading on my way now."
Firmus stared at him, trying to pinpoint something that would explain the sudden change in Skywalker's behavior. Despite his best effort, there was nothing that he could pick out.
"Certainly," he said after a moment. "Are you sure that nothing is wrong?"
"Of course," Skywalker said, offering him a half-smile. "I just need a change of scenery. I think I might head to the hangar bay and see what progress has been made on my X-wing."
Reasonable. There was no reason why the kid couldn't do that. Although, if Firmus remembered correctly… that particular hangar was on the other side of the ship. It was a long way to go by oneself.
"I'll arrange for someone to go with you," Firmus offered, unable to shake the niggling thought that Skywalker very suddenly did not want to be here . "It's easy to get lost on a ship this big."
"No, that's alright," Skywalker shook his head, raising his hands. "I appreciate the offer but I can find my own way there."
Firmus kept his expression neutral, trying his best not to be irritated once again. He didn't know why Skywalker was so adamant against a security detail... but he couldn't force the kid to have an escort when Lord Vader himself hadn't demanded it. It wasn't as if Skywalker hadn't been getting along just fine for the past several weeks. Nothing had happened - yet. But surely, he would be smart enough to inform someone if he thought there might be a problem?
"As you wish," Firmus said slowly, reluctantly stepping to the side.
With a polite nod, Skywalker excused himself without any further ado and crossed the walkway with easy strides.
Firmus watched as the hexagonal doors closed behind him, staring at the space where Skywalker had disappeared. He didn't know Skywalker well enough to be able to read all of his tells but he knew that something had prompted him to leave.
It hadn't been without cause. He would stake his life on it.
The only immediate thing that came to mind which would be of any importance to Skywalker was Lord Vader himself.
After a few weeks on board the Executor, Firmus had caught on to the fact that the two of them seemed to have an unnerving ability to communicate with each other without words. He couldn't say for sure but distance never seemed to be a factor. Some small instances that he had observed quickly came to mind, reaffirming his belief that they were uniquely in tune with each other.
After a moment of hesitation, Firmus pulled out his communicator device to see if he had received any alerts in regards to Lord Vader.
To his disappointment, there was nothing.
Everything was still quiet on that end. In situations like this, he would usually be the first to receive a notification whenever Lord Vader was once again available for staff communication. Since he had not, Firmus could only assume that the Supreme Commander was still speaking with the Emperor. And since the idea was to keep the Emperor from realizing that Skywalker was here… then it stood to reason that Lord Vader would not have requested his presence. Nor was there any reason for Skywalker to have felt the need to hide that from him if that had been the case.
It had to be something else.
"Admiral Piett? Are you alright? You seem distracted."
Firmus turned around to look at Commander Gherant. "That didn't seem strange to you?"
"What seemed strange?"
"Skywalker. He just up and left."
The commander raised his rather bushy eyebrows very slowly. "He's allowed to, isn't he? He does what he wants."
Firmus pursed his lips, annoyed with the answer. Mostly because it was true but also because it wasn't. Skywalker had yet to take any real advantage of the leeway he had been given. He followed all the same rules that everyone else was expected to follow. His officers would know that if they paid attention. It took a few more intense seconds of thought before he remembered where he'd seen that head tilting pose that Skywalker had done before.
Lord Vader would do the same thing on occasion... as if he was listening to something that only he could hear. Which, considering his abilities, seemed rather likely. Firmus didn't know the details of how any of it actually worked but he was familiar enough with the idea of the Force to know that his Lord was often aware of danger before it ever arrived.
It stood to reason that Skywalker would have the same ability and intuition.
Firmus brushed past Commander Gherant and stepped towards the security desk, snapping his fingers at the ensign that was on duty. "You!" he said, watching the young man jump in surprise. "Follow Commander Skywalker on the cameras. I want to know where he is going."
"Oh, uh," the ensign -Sion, he remembered distantly - scrambled and Firmus was conscious of the rest of the Bridge growing a little bit quieter as they tried to listen in. "Yes sir, of course."
"Firmus?" Gherant said quietly, standing at his shoulder.
"Commander Skywalker is just entering the lift at the end of the hall," Ensign Sion reported. "He's still alone."
"Tell me what floor he gets off on." Pulling his commlink from his belt, Firmus flipped through the channels until he found the right one. "Security, this Admiral Piett on the Bridge."
It took less than two seconds for a response.
"Go for Security."
"I need someone to intercept Commander Luke Skywalker on…."
"Hang on… uh, it's stopping just a few floors down, actually. On Alpha Deck number twenty-one."
That was not the right floor to get to any of the hangar bays. It was mostly conference rooms down there and a small staff break room.
Firmus repeated the location, watching on the camera feed as Skywalker stepped out of the elevator. He seemed annoyed, turning and watching the elevator doors as they closed. The kid stepped forward again after just a second or two, pressing a seemingly random button and scanning his card. The doors didn't open again.
"Is everything alright?"
"I just need Commander Skywalker to be escorted to wherever he is going. Don't take no for an answer."
"...copy that. I have some security officers that can reach him in the next few minutes. They are enroute to him now."
"Thank you," Firmus said, holding the comm in his hand and leaving the channel open for further communication. Ensign Sion moved his chair over to accommodate him better.
"Sir, is everything alright?"
Firmus ignored the question, watching the security cameras intently, only half-aware of the Rear Admiral coming up behind him.
"Firmus?" Charineau asked quietly.
"Something is off," Firmus said lowly. "I don't know what it is though."
"With Skywalker?" Charineau peered closer at the screen. "Listen, he seemed fine to me when he left a few minutes ago. You don't want to make a big deal out of nothing."
"I never make a big deal out of anything unless I need to." Firmus reminded him shortly. "Watch the cameras."
The four of them - himself, Charineau, Gherant, and Sion - watched the cameras together, looking for anything that appeared out of the ordinary. On screen, Skywalker's body language wasn't relaxed but he had turned away from the elevator and was slowly making his way up the corridor instead.
"That hallway shouldn't be empty," Firmus said after a moment of realization. There were guards that were supposed to be posted on each of the five Command deck levels, for security purposes. It wasn't shift change yet. Someone should be down there walking a route. He grabbed the computer mouse from Ensign Sion and switched the view to further up the corridor and didn't see anyone.
A strange, uneasy pit began to curdle in his stomach.
"Where the hell is Hurdiss at?" Firmus snapped, looking over his shoulder. "Someone find out where he is and get me the updated reports from Communications and Internal Security. I want to know what is being said on the ship's channels."
Because every second that passed by convinced him more and more that none of this was a coincidence; and if that was true, how had he missed it? He had taken every precaution that he knew how to take.
On screen, Skywalker slowly came to a halt in the middle of the corridor. He looked left and then right, his hand drifting to the lightsaber that hung on his belt, clearly sensing that something was wrong.
There was no audio on security cameras but just a few seconds later, appearing abruptly, a small group of six masked individuals that was headed by the one the Executor's designated assassin droids stepped into view.
Skywalker barely had time to ignite the green blade of his lightsaber before streaks of red and green blaster fire lit up the corridor.
11:38 Hours
Cyrich Sion had been posted on the Executor since her debut to the public and had seen his fair share of interesting things happen on her Bridge in the few years that she had been in service.
He had never seen Admiral Piett run before though.
The second that Skywalker's assailants began firing, the admiral had taken off, shouting that Commander Gherant had control of the Bridge. The on-duty security officers immediately went with him, disappearing out the trademark hexagonal doors to presumably go to Skywalker's aid.
A number of people from the Pits had abandoned their posts entirely and were crowding around him, watching the security screens intently as a full fledged fight began to take place. As far as Cyrich could track, at least four of the assailants' blaster bolts were the standard red color and two of them were green. Skywalker had nowhere to retreat to, trapped in the middle of the corridor with the doors of any immediate conference rooms around him locked.
Cyrich had never seen a Jedi fight before but the way that Skywalker was able to deflect so many shots coming his way was almost mesmerizing.
Both the captain and the rear admiral were speaking quickly and snapping orders into comms, demanding to know where security was and how fast that they could get to Skywalker. Someone at least had the sense to call over the overhead comm and activate an emergency happening on Deck Twenty-One, involving Commander Luke Skywalker. An A-team, B-team, SWAT, and medical were all requested.
On one portion of the security screen, Cyrich could see that the elevator at the end of the hall still wasn't responding - it was on a different monitoring system, but if he had to guess, it had been deactivated entirely. Unable to use it, the admiral had elected to use the stairwell instead to get to Vader's son faster.
"Master Control, override the locking mechanisms on the doors for Deck Twenty-One and ensure that backup is able to get through when they arrive!" the rear admiral snapped into his comm radio.
On screen, Skywalker was clearly outnumbered; it was obvious that the assassin droid had a protective shield activated around it that was causing Skywalker's deflected return shots to bounce off without doing any damage in return, all the while being shot at from several different angles by the other sentient assailants.
How none of the blaster bolts got through, Cyrich honestly couldn't tell. All he knew was that Skywalker was reacting to all of it with a speed and level of competency that seemed entirely inhuman. He might be outnumbered but Cyrich was quickly convinced that he wasn't actually outmatched. Not yet, at least.
The assassin droid was advancing on him, shooting at him far quickly and more aggressively than the others could and slowly forcing Skywalker further down the corridor. It was attempting to back him into an actual corner and reduce his mobility and defense even further.
The damn thing didn't get the chance.
As soon as Skywalker seemed to realize what was happening, he reacted fast, shifting the lightsaber into one hand and continuing to block with it while reaching upwards with the other and pulling downwards -
Abruptly, a portion of the ceiling collapsed and landed directly on top of the assassin droid - the shield protected it but the debris scattering forced the six other men to back off to avoid getting hit and cease firing for a few seconds; it was a long enough lull for Skywalker to take a pause in the constant effort of deflecting blaster fire and he immediately lifted his hand again, curling his fingers inwards.
The assassin droid's shield sparked briefly before failing and then it began to crumble in on itself, the metal of its limbs bending and breaking into pieces before the entire thing was launched by an invisible power backwards into the rest of the attackers, scattering them once again.
"Damn." Someone murmured quietly.
Cyrich couldn't help but agree.
Alarms blaring and lights were flashing all the way down the corridor, probably alerting everyone and anyone that was present on the next five decks that something bad was happening. Luke did his best to tune it all out entirely, too focused on making sure that he got out of this damn situation alive.
With the assassin droid out of the fight, he had a much better chance of dealing with the others successfully. Luke knew that it would be far harder for them to hit him if he was moving and now that the masked men that were trying to kill him no longer had a shield to hide behind, his advance wouldn't be in vain.
He moved forwards towards his attackers for the first time, waving a hand to throw the first of them out of the way and slamming him into the wall; there was a crunching sound as his spine broke and then his body dropped to the floor, his light in the Force already fading.
"Damn son of a bitch!" One of them shouted furiously.
"Zenue, flank him!"
Luke couldn't say for certain which of the men gave the order but he adjusted himself accordingly to try and prevent the blaster fire from coming at him from multiple directions at once. His father had a very annoying tendency to make this look easy in training - it didn't seem to matter what level of difficulty he chose to work at either; attacks like these just didn't phase him. Luke had done more than his fair share of practice in deflecting opposing fire over the last few weeks but he was still nowhere near Vader's level of skill. In close quarters, with little room to move, six people - well, five now - felt like a lot.
The walls of the corridor were already dotted with scorch marks from the fight; Luke did his best to send the blaster fire back towards his attackers; sometimes it was less about skill and more about being accurately in tune with the Force - he knew better now that if he was open enough, it could enhance his ability to focus on multiple things at once and the result was that it felt a little bit like everything around him was moving at a slower pace than him.
With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent a green blaster bolt back and managed to accurately hit the closest attacker to him in the chest, killing him instantly.
Four more, Luke thought grimly. At the exact same moment, at far end of the corridor from behind his attackers, a door was abruptly blown off its hinges and five or six stormtroopers filed out, armed to the teeth.
Back-up had finally arrived.
It was both a welcome and unwelcome change - with additional people, Luke knew he needed to be more careful and avoid hitting anyone that was on his side with deflected blaster fire.
His attackers emotions went from grim determination to panic and one of them turned away from the shootout with Luke to fire back at the new arrivals. The first stormtrooper in line raised his weapon and fired off a few defensive rounds in response. One of the shots hit its target and another light flickered out in the Force. The other two made it through the throng of chaos and whizzed by Luke, just shy of hitting him in the shoulder, causing him to flinch.
"Watch the crossfire!" one of the stormtroopers shouted angrily. "Do not hit Skywalker!"
Please, Luke agreed privately, do not shoot more weapons my way. He was good but he could only handle so many. But...
Changing tactics, Luke quickly deflected another bolt at one of them and hit him before immediately reaching out with one hand. He found the blasters in the Force and curled his Force presence around them and pulled, tearing them out of the remaining hands and flinging the weapons behind him.
"No!"
In response, the stormtroopers advanced immediately, working together to tackle one of the remaining two men and bringing him down to the ground harshly.
The final one acted quickly and pulled a second blaster from the holster on his belt and lifted it up high and pulled the trigger.
It didn't fire.
A deep sense of disbelief and frustration erupted in the Force; his attacker continued trying to fire the weapon, cursing angrily; Luke took advantage of the lull and moved forwards and in a move that he'd practiced on a fair number of training droids, Luke quickly and literally disarmed his opponent. A familiar howl of pure agony erupted in the hallway, barely masking the sound of an arm dropping to the durasteel floor with a sickening, dead thump.
His attacker dropped to his knees, clutching his severed arm close, his chest heaving frantically as he screamed out his pain for everyone to hear.
One more down. Luke lifted his lightsaber to finish him quickly… except, something in him suddenly balked at the idea. He stared, sweat dripping down his face as the man sobbed on the ground, blood spurting out of the wound. …how was he supposed to kill a man who wasn't even on his feet? What threat did he pose now that the situation was finally under control?
…for a split second, a chilling thought crossed his mind.
It was something that Vader would do.
Killing was something that his father did very well and Luke knew that in the same position, Vader would cut this man down and never think twice about it. Was that wrong? Or merely efficient - the practices of a man who'd been hardened by war, both in the Empire and the Republic alike? Or was it darkness that had made the lives of others so invaluable to him?
He didn't know what the first push into the dark side had been for his father… and while there were many things that Luke admired about Vader… he didn't want the act of killing another to come so easily to him.
Jedi use the Force for knowledge and defense, never aggression or personal gain.
Luke watched his attacker clutching his severed arm for another second before turning around to see who else was left and if anyone who'd come to assist him needed any help.
Four of the six attackers were dead - three of them killed by himself and the other by one of the stormtroopers who had come to his aid. The fifth man had been forced to the ground and several men were attempting to restrain him - he was fighting back, making their job difficult.
Luke deactivated his lightsaber and moved forward to go and assist them; he had only gotten a few feet when a cold chill suddenly ran up his spine.
Danger.
He spun around once more and in an instant, realized his mistake. He hadn't taken the weapon and the man whose arm he'd cut off had gotten back up to his feet, standing in a small pool of his own blood. He had taken the blaster out of his own severed hand and was aiming it directly at him.
His green eyes were filled with malice and pain.
"F-fuck you, Skywalker."
This time, a shot was successfully fired and Luke felt his eyes widen; for a split second, everything slowed down. He was able to register the color of the red plasma bolt that was aimed directly for his head and had just enough time to raise his fake hand on instinct to try to catch and absorb it.
It didn't work and he cried out as the shot made impact, time resuming its normal course. A hot explosion of pain, not unlike what he'd felt when he'd lost his hand on Bespin, ripped through his hand. The muscles in his arm locked and became rigid as electric currents went haywire, sending pain signals up and down his limb mercilessly.
He was barely aware of the blur of white armor that had charged forward, tackling his would-be murderer and wrestling the blaster away from him before he could fire off another shot, while another came and shoved Luke to the ground, covering him with his body.
Luke barely registered hitting the floor, too distracted by the fiery pain in his arm to fully realize that getting tackled hurt as well.
There was the sound of a scuffle and of angry cursing and shouts of anger.
"I got him, I got him!" Someone shouted. "Restrain his legs - yeah… don't let him kick you, watch it - okay, now you apply the tourniquet… we don't need this bastard bleeding out just yet -"
A few more orders were given and then...
"Are we clear?" Someone else shouted, his voice a little more distant.
"We're clear! All suspects are apprehended and the scene is safe!"
It was over.
It had probably only been a few minutes at most but it had felt more like an hour. The stormtrooper on top of him shifted his weight and got off. Luke slowly sat up, pushing himself backwards until his back hit the corridor wall, chest heaving. Other people who were present or had been taking cover began moving into view, walking into the gruesome scene and speaking into radios. At the very far end of the hall, Luke became aware of the fact that there was a door that was being pounded on viciously.
"Son of…" Luke cussed hoarsely, pulling his arm closer to his body in some vain, instinctual effort to protect it. After a few seconds, he dared to look at his hand and saw that a hole had been blown right through the palm of it.
There would be no fixing it this time.
With a shaking hand, he managed to open the panel that was further up his wrist and pried out the interpreter chip. The pain signals stopped immediately. He swallowed, closing his eyes and dropping the chip on the ground so that he could hold his head and breathe. It'd felt like his hand had been cut off all over again.
"You alright, kid?"
Luke glanced to the side and then nodded exhaustedly at the stormtrooper who'd tackled him. "I think so." He blew out a steadying breath, trying to calm his nerves and shake off of his fight or flight response.
"Good. Bloody hell," the stormtrooper whispered, a hand coming up and pressing against the front of his helmet. There was another loud bang from the end of the hall.
"No kidding," Luke said, dropping his head back against the wall. "Thanks for the help."
"Yeah, don't mention it."
"You got a name?"
The stormtrooper nodded. "Dogma."
Luke felt his brow furrow. He knew that name - it was… it was the name of one of the 501st members that he'd met two or three weeks ago. One of his father's men that would have been part of his security detail had he agreed to one.
"Will someone help get that damn door open?" Someone demanded in frustration when another loud bang sounded throughout the corridor.
"Excuse me," Dogma blew up, pulling himself up to his feet again. Luke watched as he joined the other guards and troopers and began speaking to them. Some of them separated to help whoever was trying to get in and another one of the guards took a second to pull the black masks off the remaining two attacker's faces.
"Who the hell are you two?" Dogma demanded.
The man who'd lost his arm glared up at them angrily, his chest heaving. The whole front of his person was covered with blood. "Lieutenant… Commander Fovian Hata. Been assigned to the Executor for the last two years and until recently, I considered it one of the greatest honors of my life." he spat on the ground near Dogma's feet. "Now I know better. Traitors."
"And you?" Dogma said, directing the question at the other man sitting beside Hata. "Who are you?"
"Private Gheorge Svag," he answered after a few seconds.
"Why did you two do this?"
"Because Skywalker doesn't deserve to live." Hata spat out hatefully. "And if Lord Vader and the rest of you scrags won't do anything about him, then I will."
"Yeah?" Dogma stepped forward, towering over him threateningly. "You little weasel, you're not important enough to make those kinds of decisions."
"I stood by the Empire," Hata snapped back, pounding his chest with his remaining hand. "And I am the only one here in this corridor that seems to remember the victims of the Death Star! Skywalker should be standing trial for his crimes and instead he's being treated like royalty by the same people that should be executing justice for what was done! It's disgusting."
"That doesn't give you the right -"
"Coruscant gave me the right! The order issued on Skywalker is still dead or alive. "
"Not all orders are meant to be followed," Dogma said in a cold, icy tone. There was another loud bang from the end of the hall. "Who else was a part of this?"
"Go fuck yourself, clone."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard what I said," Hata spat out hatefully. "I don't take orders from the likes of you - you traitor, you're not even a real person. You were grown in a lab like a science experiment and you've outgrown your intended purpose. Someone should have turned you off a long time ago!"
Luke got to his feet, feeling his own anger spark in response to the cruel words. He wasn't the only one either.
Dogma's hands curled into fists and he stepped forward just as the other stormtrooper slid in front of him before he could do anything. He pressed a hand against Dogma's chest armor and pushed him back a little. "Don't," he warned quietly. "I got this."
"I'm in control," Dogma said tightly.
"And I'm telling you to tap out. We'll take care of it from here."
"East -"
"Now."
With a growl of frustration, Dogma turned around, cursing and began stalking up the corridor, pushing past other officers in a small rage.
"Yeah, run away, you fleshy clanker." Hata spat, glaring at him the whole time.
East immediately drew his weapon and leveled it at Hata's face. "If you say one more word," he warned quietly. "I'm going to kill you."
"Do your worst," he sneered back at East. "I'm a dead man anyways."
The insults came from more than just gross prejudice, Luke realized after a moment. The Lieutenant Commander knew exactly what was going to happen and he wanted someone to kill him before it came to that.
"Not yet you're not," East said coldly, apparently having the same realization as Luke. After a moment, he holstered his weapon again. "You're not weaseling your way out of this one. You'll get exactly what you deserve. I'll make sure of it."
Before anything else could be said, at the end of the hall, the door that the security officers had been working on finally swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang and turning everyone's attention to it.
"Admiral on deck!"
Luke slowly got to his feet as Admiral Piett exited the stairwell at last. Luke had never seen the man look so angry. He wasted no time in stalking up the corridor, flanked by three other officers from the Bridge, their shoes clacking loudly in the sudden silence which had fallen. For a very brief moment, Luke met his eyes and there was a faint sense of relief that Luke seemed unharmed before Piett turned all his attention to the incident commander in charge.
"Give me an update, now."
"Four dead, sir. Skywalker took out three and Nvander killed the fourth. These two that are left are Lieutenant Commander Hata and Private Svag. That's all we know so far." There was a moment of silence. "Do you want this declared as a crime scene?"
"No." Piett shook his head once, his eyes focused on the two men sitting in restraints on the ground. "There's no point when there won't be a trial."
Hata snorted. "Figures," he said in disgust.
Piett didn't respond, taking a long minute to simply stare at them. The unease and tension increased incrementally until it was almost uncomfortable to watch.
"Just get it over with, admiral." Hata spat once again. For all of his bravado, Luke could tell that he was frightened. Angry and feeling entirely justified... but frightened.
"Which one of you planned this?" Piett finally demanded dangerously, ignoring the snide comment and stepping forward. East shifted to the side to allow him more room. "Speak now and save yourself from an interrogation."
The two men looked at each other.
"You don't scare us." Svag said for the first time.
Piett slowly dropped into a squatting position, the mixture of rage and calm that he was exuding making the small gesture seem particularly dangerous. "No? Well, let me tell you something, Private Svag - the detention cells are already prepping the Bavo Six and Skirtopanol for you. If you haven't already heard, then you should know that our pain simulators are so incredibly effective that even a Devaronian will start crying for their mothers within the first two minutes of interrogation. I wonder how long you think you'll last?" Piett mused, his voice eerily calm. Then he tilted his head, staring at Svag like he was nothing but an ugly insect under a microscope. "Because I think you look like a crier."
Svag paled a little but kept stubbornly quiet as the admiral stood back up on his feet, straightening his uniform.
"You'll go first," Piett said to him before turning his attention to Hata. Because "I don't think this one has the intelligence required to pull this off. Not a brainless Hutt-spawn like you."
Hata spat at Piett's immaculately polished boots, cursing at him mercilessly.
"Or maybe I'm wrong," the admiral shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe you would like to take all the credit, Hata. Either way, Lord Vader will know when he arrives. He always does."
Svag swallowed thickly, a few beads of sweat dripping down his temples now. Luke could sense everything inside of him tensing up in terror at the very mention of his father's name. Panic was replacing the forced calm.
"No one wants to talk? Fine. Then we'll do all this the hard way then. Let the detention cells know that we are on our way with two -"
"It was Hata!" Svag blurted out, raising his cuffed hands up in front of him. "H-he planned the whole thing! He was the one with the contacts in security and asked them to monitor Skywalker's movements for him and he was the one that had someone in engineering stop the elevator so that he got off on this floor -"
"You fucking rat!" Hata spat out, trying and failing to kick Svag. He was ignored.
"It was his plan - all of it, he said that once Skywalker was gone, the Emperor would protect us! That we would be doing the Empire a favor - a, a service! Taking out one of its biggest threats."
"Do you know who his contacts are?" Piett demanded calmly.
"No - no, I swear! I swear I don't know! I never knew - he said that he would take care of the details and we just had to be ready whenever he told us it was time. You have to believe me!"
"I do believe you," the admiral said, before drawing the blaster from his side holster out and setting it to Lethal. Luke felt his eyes widen as Piett leveled the blaster at Svag's wide-eyed, terrified face.
"But - b-but I told you -"
"You did," Piett interrupted. "But if you have nothing more to offer me, then I have no more use for you."
Luke stepped forward. "Admiral, wait -"
A single shot fired off and another light in the Force flickered out of existence.
Luke turned his head so he wouldn't have to see the blood that was quickly spreading from Svag's obliterated face all across the floor.
The next few minutes passed by slowly. Luke had been told to step to the side and not get in the way of anyone. He knew that he couldn't go anywhere yet but felt uncomfortable around so many people. He was uncertain of what to feel in the aftermath of the cold-blooded murder that had just taken place.
Some officers had put on Tyvek and were in the process of removing all the dead and cleaning up the mess that Luke had made of the corridor itself. The surviving attacker had gone quiet at last, sitting against the wall with an armed guard, just waiting for someone to do something with him. The bleeding from his stump was under control and no one seemed particularly concerned about him.
All of his thoughts were angry and rageful but there was a persistent feeling of fear that was becoming more and more obvious.
"Commander Skywalker."
Luke blinked at the sound of his name and then looked up. "Yes, admiral?"
Admiral Piett looked about as angry and ruffled as Luke had ever seen him. It was always the people that made a point to be calm and in control that were the most frightening when they were truly angry. Luke was also uncomfortably aware that a lot of Piett's frustration was directed at him.
"Are you injured in any way?"
Luke shook his head. "No, sir. Just a damaged prosthetic."
"Show me."
Luke lifted his right hand, which was dead weight at the end of his stump and was aware of the number of eyes being drawn to it. He didn't know why, but he hadn't liked the idea of anyone in the Empire knowing that it was fake… the secret was out now though.
"A medic will be here momentarily and he'll evaluate you for any further injuries," Piett said in a tone that implied it was not a suggestion. "Find a place to sit and wait. Your father is on his way as well."
Oh damn.
Even if Luke hadn't been shut out of their bond, he had been making a point of not searching for his father anywhere in the Force. He wasn't surprised that Vader had been notified but if someone had interrupted a call with the Emperor to Vader that his son had been attacked, then there was going to be more than one person dying today.
Heads were going to roll.
"I could just meet him -"
"That was an order, Commander," Piett interrupted harshly. "Not a suggestion. Go sit down. And you two," he said, turning his attention to two security officers that Luke vaguely recognized from the Bridge. "Do not leave his side for a second."
"Yes, Admiral." They said in unison.
Luke bit the inside of his cheek but reluctantly did as he was told and slowly sat down in the nearest chair. It must have come from one of the conference rooms.
He hadn't been sitting for very long when the connection between him and Vader finally reopened.
"Oh," Luke breathed, fighting the urge to shrink in his seat as he became uncomfortably aware of the raging storm of powerful and negative emotions that was his father. "Oh, he is not happy right now."
Beside him, one of the security officers that was standing guard huffed a laugh.
"What?"
"Just… you." he said, shaking his head.
"What about me?" Luke demanded, mostly for the distraction. He could feel Vader's mental eyes on him, taking stock of his condition. Luke let him, trying to explain without words that he wasn't hurt - badly, at least. It didn't seem to matter and his father was too angry for words at the moment anyways.
The security officer - Mesic, his name badge read - turned a little more towards him, an exasperated expression on his face. "You weren't actually expecting him to be in a good mood, were you?"
Luke frowned. "He's not always angry," he defended quietly.
"Yeah, well. Someone should give you the list of people that have died or gone missing on this ship since you've been here." Mesic said with a hint of bitterness. "I'm sure it'll be doubled by tomorrow."
Luke blinked but found that he had nothing to say to that. He hadn't personally heard of anyone being killed while he'd been here but… he'd always known it could be a possibility.
He looked down instead, staying quiet and focusing instead on his damaged hand instead. He couldn't move it at all and the hole in the middle made him feel vaguely sick to his stomach.
If the admiral didn't end up killing him, then his father probably would. Getting shot was his fault - it'd been stupid to leave a weapon on the ground like that and he was going to get eaten alive for it later.
"Like father, like son, huh?"
Luke blinked, looking up in surprise as he was pulled from his thoughts once more. An old clone trooper with a medical bag in hand was standing in front of him. His hair was short and graying - it took him a moment to realize that it was another one of the troopers his father had introduced him to. Kix, if he remembered correctly.
"Excuse me?"
"Your hand," the medic said patiently, nodding towards his prosthetic. "How'd you lose it?"
"I, uh," Luke tried to think of what to say. He didn't really want to tell anyone that his father had taken it off… but nothing else was coming to mind. Finally, he just shrugged. "It… it happened a long time ago."
"Hm," Kix hummed. "As I said. Like father, like son. Would you like me to take a look at it?"
"Not particularly."
There was a quiet chuckle and they both turned to see Dogma approaching them both. He very pointedly did not look in Hata's direction and instead nodded at the two security officers, gesturing for them to give them space, which they did.
"Come on, Kix, what other response would you expect from a Skywalker? They are a stubborn breed."
"Mmm, well I was hoping at least one of them would have some sense."
Luke pursed his lips, reluctantly amused. He could tell that they were making an effort to lighten the mood for him. It didn't work… but he appreciated the small kindness from them none the less.
"What do you know about prosthetics?" he asked instead.
"More than some, less than others." Kix offered him a wry smile.
"Well… I'm pretty sure that this one is done for," Luke said, lifting his arm for both of them to see.
"I'll tell you what," Kix said after tilting his head in agreement. "I'll leave the hand alone since I think you're probably right but let me check out the rest of you. Admiral Piett might kill us both if you try and say no."
This time, Luke huffed in slow amusement. "Isn't that the truth," he agreed quietly. He took a moment to search the older man's feelings in the Force and then relaxed. Kix's attitude was warm and friendly and like the few other remaining 501st troopers that he had met on the Executor, he seemed to harbor no ill-feelings towards him at all.
If anything, Kix was treating him as if they had been good friends for a long time. That was a hard thing to come by on this side of the political aisle and Luke could use all the friends he could get right now.
"Well?" Kix prompted after a moment.
"Yeah," Luke sighed. "Sure, go ahead. Knock yourself out."
"I'll make it quick."
Kix was as good as his word; his evaluation was thorough but brief; he took Luke's vitals and used a body scanner device to check for any injuries. There weren't any, except for his hand. Luke had the passing thought that that should have been obvious since his clothes were still intact… but there was no reason to be difficult.
He understood that these people couldn't cut corners where Lord Vader's son was concerned. Not if they valued their lives.
"Not too bad," Kix hummed, packing his things away. "Six against one plus an assassin droid isn't anything to look down your nose at. Or it wouldn't have been, if you hadn't gotten shot."
Luke gave the man a flat look. "Like you would have done better?"
Kix smirked. "You do realize that if you're taking prisoners, you're supposed to take away their weapons, right?"
Oh yeah. He was never living this down.
"I'll remember that bit of advice for the next time someone tries to kill me," Luke said sarcastically.
"I'm just saying," Kix shrugged, unbothered by his tone. "You're a good fighter… a lot like your father. For people that are talented like you, it'll most likely be the small things that'll get you in a spot of trouble if you aren't careful to remember them. Just something to think about."
Annoyed with himself as he was, Luke could admit that it wasn't bad advice. In fact, the simplicity and delivery of the comment itself reminded him a lot of Ben and it set something inside of him at ease.
After a few seconds, Luke nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll remember that," he said quietly.
Kix and Dogma both seemed rather pleased with his response, the latter patting him on the back. "I'm sure your father will only be reminding you of this particular mistake for a month or so," Dogma said.
"Ha," Luke said, shaking his head and running his remaining hand through his hair in exasperation. The dark storm of rage was much closer now. "Speaking of which… he is about to make an appearance." he warned quietly. "Might want to make yourselves scarce, if you can."
Neither of them seemed particularly concerned.
"Your father doesn't scare us," Kix said with a shrug.
Luke tilted his head, watching the door and knowing that hell was about to walk through it. "He should."
The elevator doors at the end of the corridor finally opened with a flourish and then Vader was stepping out, flanked by a few members of Death Squadron. The whole corridor became dead silent. Luke had gotten used to viewing Vader as "father" but he was reminded in an instant that Darth Vader was a terrifying force to be reckoned. The scourge of the rebellion and the brutal enforcer of the Empire.
Fear, unease, and trepidation immediately became the dominant emotions from everyone present as he father stalked down the hallways towards them; the way through the impressive number of people being parted for him as everyone scrambled to give him space.
The whole time, Vader didn't even look at Luke. Instead, his attention was solely on Admiral Piett.
"Who is in charge?" he hissed.
The incident commander raised his hand before Piett could answer. "I am, sir. My people arrived on scene first."
"What. Happened?"
The incident commander spoke quickly, giving a brief update of what they knew about the situation - which wasn't a lot - as well as the suspicion that there were more people involved in the attempt on Luke's life than those who were present and dead because all the security measures on the doors and elevators for the entire floor had been compromised and had prevented a more rapid response from occurring.
The information did absolutely nothing to lessen the black fog of rage that surrounded Vader; even the lights on the wall seemed to flicker every few seconds in response to his anger. Luke was impressed by the back bone the incident commander had - he was scared, but holding his ground.
"And why," Vader demanded quietly, the man slowly rising off the ground as his father grabbed him by the throat in the Force. Hata's face turned red immediately, a gurgling, choking sound escaping momentarily from his lips. "Is this filth still alive?"
Admiral Piett straightened his shoulders and stepped forwards this time, raising his hands placatingly. "I know you're angry and you have every right to be. This one is alive for interrogation purposes, in order to find out if there are others who were a part of this. If there are, they will be found and dealt with accordingly, my Lord."
Vader turned his mask slowly to Piett and Luke didn't think the red tint of his lenses had ever seemed quite so sinister. "You told me that you would handle security and that there would be no issues, admiral." he hissed tightly.
"I did, sir." Admiral Piett said, swallowing. "And this is my failure. I accept that and offer my apologies."
"Keep them," Vader said harshly. "And consider this your only warning; do not fail me again."
"No, my Lord."
Slowly, very, very slowly Vader uncurled his fist and dropped the man to the ground where he laid gasping and coughing hoarsely.
"Get him out."
Piett turned immediately, snapping orders. "You heard the Supreme Commander - get this man out of here and down to the detention cells! Now!"
Security and other officers jumped to obey, pulling their lone prisoner up to his feet and shoving him towards the exit without any real regard for his condition. They seemed particularly eager to get out of Vader's presence, wary of getting caught in any resulting crossfire.
Piett somehow managed to maintain a controlled demeanor as he began directing the rest of the clean-up and calling over the comm radio for Chief Hurdiss and Lieutenant Suba to make themselves available within the next hours; but Luke could sense that underneath… he was stressed, frustrated, and ready to kill whoever had helped in putting him in this position.
Vader had killed people for much smaller offenses than this one and the admiral did not appreciate being put on thin ice.
"Kix," Vader snapped, brushing harshly past the admiral and turning his attention on the two members of the 501st.
"He's alright," Kix said peacefully. "Just a busted up hand. No real damage was done, my Lord."
His father glared at him, taking a moment to read Kix's truthfulness in the Force. He found it, though it did nothing to appease him in the slightest. "Then you are dismissed." Vader said tightly.
The two stormtroopers left promptly, one of them patting him almost apologetically on the shoulder as they passed by. Luke watched them leave and found himself wishing that they could have stayed. It wouldn't have done anything - but at least he wouldn't have had to do this completely alone.
Very slowly, Luke met his father's eyes and knew in an instant that he was the main source of his father's anger.
"Commander Skywalker," Vader addressed him for the first time. He was using his rank which was sign enough to keep the interaction between them entirely professional.
The Dark Side was a writhing monster that was barely being kept in check. It wasn't the first time since joining his father that Luke had witnessed him in a rage… but it was the first time that any of the emotion was directed at him personally. Conscious of every remaining eye in the corridor turning towards him, Luke took a steadying breath and then slowly stood up at attention.
"My Lord," he acknowledged, nodding respectfully towards his father.
"Come with me. Now."
They didn't go very far. Just a short way down the corridor and then into the first empty room that was available. The door closed behind them with a terrifying sort of finality and Luke spared a thought to hope that the walls would be soundproof.
Somehow, he doubted it.
Vader turned to face him, glaring at him in such a way that Luke felt like he was about eight years old again.
"Tell me what happened."
Luke hesitated for a moment, and then gave his father a brief and honest report, starting with the sudden whispers of danger that he had felt on the Bridge and his decision to relocate someplace else in an attempt to avoid it.
The admiral came and joined them halfway through his explanation, the door closing silently behind him. He stood at the left of Vader, listening intently.
Saying it all out loud, in hindsight, made Luke realize that it hadn't been the greatest decision on his part.
But he hadn't been able to tell his father in the moment and ask him what he should do and he also hadn't thought that anyone in the Empire would appreciate him saying that he had a bad feeling. Leaving and going someplace else - like a private hangar that was restricted to authorized persons only - had seemed reasonable to him.
Especially since he hadn't actually known what the danger was.
It might have worked out except that there had clearly been a great deal of thought that had gone into the attempt on his life and he'd ended up walking into the trap and had been cornered with nowhere to go. The fight itself was easy enough to explain and he would have apologized for tearing the corridor apart except it was Vader who had taught him that literally everything could be considered a weapon.
The damage to the ship was not his concern, anyways.
Luke hesitated to explain his reasoning for leaving Lieutenant Commander Hata alive, unwilling to admit that he did it mostly because he thought that killing him was what Vader would have done. Instead, Luke just said that he thought taking the man's arm off would have been enough to end things.
Judging by the intense scrutiny he could feel from Vader, his father was more than aware that Luke was holding something back and his anger only increased when Luke explained that Hata was the one who'd shot him almost immediately following his decision.
He was not used to feeling like his father thought he was stupid but Luke definitely felt it now. As if the anger hadn't been bad enough.
"That's… that's basically it," Luke ended awkwardly.
There was a long moment of silence, broken up only by his father's repetitive breathing. Luke barely noticed it anymore, except in moments like these.
"So, just to be clear," Piett said incredulously, becoming the first one to speak. He raised a hand and pointed his finger at him, his temper rising. "You had a notion that something bad was going to happen… and you just decided to not tell anyone… and then you wandered off on your own?"
"I didn't think my feelings would be substantial enough to warrant a response here. In my defense, they rarely are, even in the Rebellion." Luke protested, uncomfortable with how bad all of it sounded. "I had no proof or evidence to offer - nothing except my own intuition. Would you have really appreciated me making a big deal out of something that could have been nothing?"
"Clearly, it wasn't nothing."
"The Empire isn't exactly Jedi friendly," Luke said defensively, feeling some anger spark in response. "Unless you've forgotten that it promotes the Force as nothing more than a dangerous, archaic, and outdated belief - the followers of which should be eradicated from existence. Forgive me for thinking my feelings wouldn't matter."
Piett was silently seething, his emotions sharp and painful in the Force. Luke could practically hear him snapping, I work with your father, you idiot! in his head. Instead, the admiral took another step towards him, somehow managing to stand taller despite the fact that they were roughly the same height.
"I am not the Empire," Piett said with a dangerous, forced sort of calm. "Do not make the mistake on my ship, under my command, of thinking that I am as ignorant and blind to the Force as the rest of the galaxy has become. I am perfectly aware that you and others have talents and intuition into things that I cannot understand. I also know that my lack of understanding does not negate reality. Your rag-tag team of overly self-righteous, imbecilic terrorists are running their pathetic operation off of desperation and a severe lack of resources. They might not feel that they are able to afford to listen to someone and something they can't understand but I have no such issue."
"I wasn't trying to cause a problem - "
"Well you did," Piett interrupted harshly. "Learn to speak up and don't ever put yourself or my men in a spot of danger again because you don't have the courage to be looked at sideways. There are more people who are putting time and effort into ensuring your safety than you seem to realize or appreciate. Think next time."
Luke bit his tongue, knowing that he was partly in the wrong and recalling the security guard's comments about the recent executions that had taken place on the Executor. Ignorance was a poor excuse in a situation like this, when the stakes were as high as they were for everyone involved.
His… desire to be seen as competent had backfired… and was now having the exact opposite effect of what he had wanted. In reality, he probably looked like an ass - one that didn't have much regard for what everyone else was doing for him.
"In light of recent events," Piett said stiffly, directing his comment towards Vader before Luke could even attempt to speak again. "I am requesting that the matter of personal security be revisited and more seriously considered."
"The discussion will be had, Admiral."
Piett straightened his uniform, breathing slowly out through his nose. "Thank you," he said tightly, offering Vader a short nod and then barely looking in Luke's direction. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have a mess to clean up."
The admiral left then, stalking out of the room. The door closed behind him and left a cold silence in his wake.
14:02 Hours
SSD Executor, Lord Vader's Private Floors
The walk back to their shared space had been completely silent, neither of them saying anything to each other. At least for Luke, it had felt a bit like walking to his death. The dark aura which tainted his father's private floors had yet to subside; although occasionally Luke had the passing thought it was… less. A nearly imperceptible change, really.
But also… less, somehow, than it had been when he'd first arrived.
These floors had slowly become "home" to him over the last few weeks though and home would have been a welcome refuge after everything that had happened today. Whatever change there was in the atmosphere down here… it was gone now, blacked out entirely by his father's anger towards him. The doors closed behind them, leaving Luke alone with his father.
He didn't dare think that they were done with their discussion yet and as furious as Piett had been, his wrath was nothing compared to Vader's. Not even close.
Judging by the way Vader was just… glaring at him, Luke wasn't entirely certain that he would make it out of this in one piece. Too bad, because he was already down a hand. Luke broke eye contact first, sighing tiredly and then walked a short ways past the front entry before turning to lean against the wall. Luke shoved his hands into his pockets and waited for the inevitable.
It didn't take long.
"What were you thinking?" Vader finally hissed at him. "Have you learned nothing? "
"I had it under control."
"You could have been killed."
"I wasn't."
Vader stepped towards him and snatched his arm, raising his damaged hand up between them.
"And is this what you considered to be "under control?" he hissed. "Shot? If you had reacted even a second slower, this hole would have been through your head."
"I'm fine," Luke said, jerking his arm free from Vader's grip and glaring at him for the first time. "Mistakes happen. I'll do better next time."
"It should not have happened at all. There is no reason why any of those men should have been alive at the end of that fight. You are more than capable of dealing with a situation like that and you had the upper hand until you stopped fighting. So I ask for the final time… what were you thinking?" Vader demanded in a low, dangerous tone.
Luke stepped backwards, putting a small bit of space between them and paced for a moment. He felt stressed and on edge - he'd made a mistake but he didn't think his intentions had been bad either. He just wasn't certain how to put that into words. Or at least, phrase it all in a way that his father would understand.
Seconds ticked by, with Vader growing more and more frustrated with him.
"Luke -"
"Just," Luke closed his eyes, grabbing his hair in frustration, his fingers curling into the roots. "Give me a second."
He breathed, slowly and deliberately, trying to calm the adrenaline that was still working through his system. He hated this - hated feeling this level of disappointment from his father. He'd felt the same often enough while training with Yoda whenever he hadn't risen to meet the old masters expectations.
There was a part of him that was desperate to do everything the right way and it stressed him out when he didn't. It didn't help either that both of his two teachers had vastly different ideas of what the right way to do things was.
"Mercy," Luke finally said quietly, heaving a sigh. He dropped his hand and looked up at his father again, meeting his eyes. "I was thinking… that I should show mercy."
He could feel and sense the incredulous look that was suddenly directed his way.
"There is no room for mercy in the Empire, Luke."
Luke tilted his head in silent agreement. "I know," he said quietly.
It wasn't even a lie.
The culture of the Empire was unlike anything he had ever truly experienced before. He had always witnessed it on the outskirts, from the safety and anonymity of Tatooine and then later, had known it better in battle during his time with the Rebellion. Living within it was an entirely different experience, however - it was cutthroat and ruthless and these people pounced on weakness like a loth cat pounced on a mouse.
It would be easy to be exactly the same as all of them here. When everyone here was expecting him to be exactly like his father and found fault in him when he wasn't. They never said as much to his face - they wouldn't dare - but Luke knew that they all thought it just the same. He didn't fit in here and Luke was alright with that; but it was a human weakness to feel pressure to conform.
"That's what makes it so important."
Vader glared at him, his thoughts and emotions tangled up together until Luke couldn't distinguish any of the finer details of them. He just knew that his answer hadn't been what Vader had wanted to hear from him.
"Do you intend to show mercy to the Emperor?" his father demanded quietly.
"That's different and you know it," Luke said tiredly. "Don't make this into something that it's not."
"You are my only child," Vader shot at him fiercely. "And I have taught you better than this. I will not lose you due to some misguided sense of compassion brought about because of the flawed teachings of the Jedi. I am not training you to be weak."
"Mercy is not weakness."
"I beg to differ. Compassion is a weakness that your enemies will not share."
"That's why it is so important." Luke repeated earnestly. "It's what separates us from them."
Was it really so impossible for his father to understand that extending mercy to some did not equate to extending mercy to all? Luke thought that he had made his intention and willingness to kill the Emperor perfectly clear over the last few weeks. It shouldn't even be a question.
Did Vader really think that Luke was just… going to completely change his mind in the middle of that fight? Did he really think that Luke would be that stupid?
The idea hurt, more than he was willing to admit.
"Father -"
"Do not speak to me," Vader cut him off harshly, raising a hand to silence him.
Luke swallowed back his words. An uncomfortable silence grew between them, like a barrier wall. There were a lot of thoughts going through Vader's head and Luke could sense that it was taking every ounce of self control that he had to resist speaking them. Luke waited, hoping that he would at least say something.
To his disappointment, his father just shook his head in disgust and turned to leave entirely, his cape whipping behind him as he moved in the direction of his meditation pod. Luke watched, feeling hurt and frustrated all the way down to his bones.
He had never prompted this kind of anger from his father before and it was one of the worst feelings he'd known since Rogue Squadron had thrown him out of the Rebellion. But at the same time, he didn't think that this reaction was fair to him either. He reached out in the Force, connecting more fully with their Force connection than he had all day, intending to demand or insist that Vader not to leave with things like this between them.
Instead, Luke was hit in the face with a deep sense of fear that didn't belong to him.
Vader wasn't angry. Not really, anyways.
He was scared. Because Luke was the only thing that he had that held any meaning to him at all… and regardless of intentions, regardless of the final outcome... the truth was that today could have easily gone a lot worse than it had. That was why Vader was coming at him so hard.
And Luke insisting that the action of sparing someone's life was doing nothing to convince Vader that it wouldn't happen again. And next time, Luke might not be so lucky.
You are my only child.
"Father, please," Luke said earnestly, feeling his heart pounding a strange but frantic beat in his chest at the realization. Something in his tone stopped his father in his tracks and Luke watched, waiting for him to turn back around. It took several long, painful seconds before he did.
Emotional outbursts didn't speak to his father's level of understanding. Reasoning and blunt honesty would though.
Most of the time, anyway.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I… I really didn't mean to put myself in danger and I wasn't trying to make it seem like I wasn't taking what happened seriously."
Vader was silent, watching him with that same aura of frustration and anger around him. But he was listening.
"It's just… you have a lot of power over me," Luke tried to explain. "More than… more than anyone else in the entire galaxy. I would do anything you asked me to do and for no other reason than because it was you who asked."
A solemn flicker of truth echoed around them in the Force. They were both already aware of the weakness that Luke had for Vader, even if it had never been directly brought up between them in words. Both of them knew that he was capable of falling to the dark side if it was Vader who pushed him into it.
Luke hadn't thought it needed to be said out loud since he had come here willingly, with Vader's promise that that wouldn't happen. But maybe he needed to say it for himself - because it was no longer a situation of him fearing what Vader could make him do… and more a situation of Luke fearing what he would do all on his own.
"This is important to me," Luke finally said, shrugging his shoulders and extending his hands out helplessly. "And I know that the Empire is ruthless. I know her people are too. I'm not trying to be ignorant of that fact. I'm just… trying not to get lost in it. I don't want to forget that mercy is an option. That's not who I want to be. But if you tell me to do things your way… I will. So… I'm asking you not to take this from me."
A few seconds passed and then Vader slowly stepped towards him once again, his anger lessening significantly, though not entirely. "It was not my intention," he said stiffly. "...to dissuade you from your convictions. I have already given you my word that I would not. If my word is not enough for you, then speak up and tell me now."
The pit in Luke's stomach increased but he shook his head. He couldn't bring himself to say that he distrusted Vader. It wouldn't be true.
"Fine," Vader said with some finality, taking another step towards him. "If that is the case, then listen when I say that there is a difference between murder and self-defense. The Jedi spoke against aggression but killing, in and of itself, is not a path to the dark side. Intentions matter. How you kill matters. Whether you kill in anger or in fear matters. But self-defense, ensuring your own survival, even if you are the superior in the fight, will always be justified." his father continued fiercely. "Your life matters, Luke, and anyone who seeks to take it from you has forfeited their right to live. Actions have consequences."
Luke swallowed. "But then where does peace and mercy come in?"
"What is the cardinal rule in any fight?" Vader demanded impatiently, ignoring his question for the moment.
"To win," Luke admitted slowly. "No matter what."
"Exactly," Vader said passionately. "You were outnumbered and alone and if you had been paying attention, you would have known that those men were utterly determined to kill you. Rest assured, on my ship they would have known that regardless of whether or not they succeeded, it would only end one way for them."
"Death."
"Yes," his father confirmed. "I would never have allowed them to live and I assure you, they were well aware of that fact. Mercy was not an option here. It never was."
"I don't want to be an executioner."
"Then fight smarter. Mercy is a kindness extended to those who do not deserve it," Vader continued coldly. "So before you can offer it, you must first consider your own safety first. Then consider the safety of those who are with you. Is the situation you're in under complete control? Are they unarmed?" he said pointedly, poking him in the Force.
"I used Cho mai," Luke muttered. "He was literally unarmed."
"That is a technique for lightsaber duels," his father said impatiently. "Not a blaster fight. Even the most incompetent idiot can fire a blaster accurately with their less dominant hand - the same cannot be said in swordsmanship. In any case, you should have taken his weapon at the first opportunity you had to do so."
"It's been said."
"Good," Vader declared. "And if you ever forget it again, I will kill you myself."
Luke huffed for the first time, the threat doing more to set him at ease than anything else that had been said. He wasn't out of the woods yet; but he decided to take the verbal threat as a good sign.
"Noted," he said quietly, meeting his father's eyes. "And I am sorry. Really."
Something warm flickered between them for the first time as Vader accepted and acknowledged his sincerity for the first time. His own relief that Luke was unharmed finally made itself known as well.
"Do not let your fear of the dark side cost you your life, my son." Vader said, his voice a little softer now. "Your lapse in judgment, even with the best of intentions, could have killed you."
"I'm not interested in dying," Luke promised. "I just... I don't know." He'd already expressed his concerns and reasoning for what he had done. Doing it twice wouldn't change the fact that he was a Jedi being trained by a Sith Lord.
"Self-doubt can be a destructive force that will limit your potential and hold you captive to your fears, my son. I have taught you that the dark side is motivated by power and control, by fear and jealousy and greed and anger," his father paused for a long moment, the faintest flicker of pride fluttering between them now. "None of those are qualities that you innately have. You should trust yourself more."
The unexpected assurance hit him gently, as well as the quiet realization that Vader… actually took pride in the fact that Luke was not that way.
He hadn't known for sure. Being trained by someone who taught him one way but personally practiced the opposite… it was sometimes difficult to know exactly where he stood. A feeling of relief flooded through him and it felt as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders.
Luke let the gratitude he felt flutter between them and with it, the tension between them eased further, relaxing more into the easy camaraderie and companionship that Luke had come to enjoy.
"I don't suppose you still wanted to train tonight?" he asked after a pause.
Vader was amused.
"No," he said. "I think this is enough training for both of us today. However, I do expect three-hundred pushups from you before tomorrow, as a consequence for being stupid."
Luke winced, but… it wasn't intended to be a harsh reprimand this time. And, all things considered, three hundred push-ups was a much more lenient punishment than getting his ass handed to him in a duel with his father would have been. In this kind of mood, Vader wouldn't have held back on him at all. "I guess I deserve that."
Vader hummed in agreement, completely unrepentant.
His verbal chastisement finally out of the way, Luke sighed and rolled his shoulders before shrugging out of his gray officer's jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. His father had made it clear to him the night before that there were a number of things that required his attention today but he was giving no indication that he was planning to leave just yet. Luke hoped that he would stick around for a while longer; he personally had no interest in going out among the crew again today but didn't particularly want to be alone just yet either.
"So… how did it go with the Emperor?" Luke asked hesitantly. Vader's amusement slowly faded with the question and the sudden stillness of his emotions made Luke's stomach twist uneasily. "Does he know… about us?"
"I am unsure," Vader admitted. "But… I do not believe so."
"What did he say?" Luke pressed.
"He is unsatisfied with the status report that I gave on the Death Star. He demands that more rapid progress be made on it," Vader said slowly. "The construction efforts should be doubled, if not tripled."
Luke felt his eyebrows raise in disbelief. "Tripled? But the progress you've made on it in the last month alone is insane."
"It is not enough," Vader said dismissively.
"...couldn't we just lie in the reports?" Luke asked. "Say that it is further along than it is?"
"No. He receives updates from more people than just me. The discrepancies would be noticed. I can arrange for certain delays but the Emperor has spoken. We will have to make due and simply be careful."
Luke pinched the space between his eyes. He couldn't imagine how much a new working deadline would affect his training schedule. "Alright," he said tiredly. "Was there anything else? The meeting seemed… long." Far too long for it to have been simply a report on the Death Star, though he personally had no idea what kind of things Palpatine would talk about.
His father stared at him for a moment, his emotions becoming a little more reserved as he seemed to guess the direction of Luke's thoughts. "He was inquiring as to the shift in my emotions as of late. I believe that was his main point of interest."
"How would he know about that?" Luke asked cautiously.
There were not many things that had the capability of making his father happy. Luke knew that and he had only known his father for a few weeks now. Palpatine had known his father for much, much longer and certainly knew it as well.
"Master and apprentice, Luke." Vader reminded him with a hint of impatience, tugging pointedly on their bond.
"Wait, so… you share a… a bond with him as well as with me?"
"I do," Vader confirmed with a shrug. "Especially powerful Force users, and Sith in particular, are capable of creating secret bonds with individuals as a means of manipulation. They are not easy to break. He created ours a long time ago. I became aware of it not long after I began my apprenticeship with him."
"But… you could break it, if you wanted to?" Luke struggled to say, feeling a little blindsided by the idea of secret bonds. Seriously… what the hell?
Vader hesitated for a moment before answering. "I believe so. In theory. I tolerate it in order to appease him."
Luke couldn't tell if Vader was being honest and his doubt came solely from the fact that his father didn't actually know if he was being honest. Doubt, uncertainty, and blatant denial was lingering in the dark recesses of his father's thoughts.
At most, his words were an expression of hopeful optimism from the galaxy's least optimistic individual. And a real potential problem, Luke remembered with a sinking feeling in his gut. It had been a while since he'd explored this train of thought, for the simple reason that it was just easier to ignore than face reality.
Master and slave.
There was more at stake here than just Luke being ready to kill the Emperor. Vader needed to be ready too… just in an entirely different sense. Some bonds weren't easily broken, no matter how detested and unwanted they were. Luke just hadn't realized until now that there was a literal bond in place that needed to be both considered and broken between his father and Palpatine.
Even slaves who expressed hatred for their masters would hesitate to strike back if and when the opportunity ever came their way. Luke had gotten used to viewing his father as someone who was nigh untouchable… but conditioning was a real thing. If Vader wasn't ready when the time came… what would happen then?
Luke suspected that Palpatine had been very careful to keep his apprentice from ever getting the courage or notion that he would ever be successful in overpowering him. Vader himself had said he'd never really had the desire to try until Luke had shown up on scene… but still. Luke had no idea what kind of hold Palpatine really had over his father.
"Is it like ours?"
"Not quite so intimate."
Probably more like a leash than anything, Luke suspected bitterly. The idea made him feel gross. And any powerful Force user could do that - just… create a hold on someone and have access to whatever they were thinking or feeling, with or without their consent?
It was probably one of the worst examples of the dark side that he'd learned of yet. It made him dislike Palpatine more than he already did. How could his father seem so indifferent about it?
"Psychopaths," Luke muttered, shaking his head. "You guys are crazy."
"Watch it," Vader warned, his emotions growing incrementally darker the way that they did whenever Luke came close to crossing a line.
Luke met his father's eyes, trying and failing to think of an easy way to tell him that he really needed to let all this darkness go. That it wasn't freedom or power but slavery. That he needed to let go of this thing that Palpatine had turned him into and remember that his true identity was Anakin Skywalker.
He opened his mouth to try and found that the words got caught in his throat instead.
Patience, the Force whispered silently. Wait. Be patient.
With a sigh, Luke pinched the bridge of his nose again. He was so sick of being patient sometimes. He had always lived his life as someone who was ready to act and move and go. And this… this was important. It needed to be said.
He wanted to say it desperately.
Patience, the Force whispered once more. Wait. Not now.
Trust the Force.
It was hard, sometimes… but he could do that. And, Luke supposed, as frustrating as it was… he could concede that patience was more important than he had previously given it credit for. Yoda might have been a lot more willing to train him if he hadn't been an annoying and impatient little twat when they'd first met.
"Sorry," Luke finally blew out.
Vader stared at him intently, reading his emotions before nodding his head once in acknowledgement.
"He didn't say anything else then?"
"No."
Luke didn't think that that was true… but could sense that his father was growing tired of the conversation as a whole. It wouldn't be wise to push for more on this particular topic - especially since he was already on thin ice at the moment. But… as long as they were having a heart to heart of some kind…. "Could you at least tell me why you've been so angry lately?"
There was something else on Vader's mind, that was keeping him in a foul mood and judging by the flicker of understanding that he felt from his father's side of their bond, he knew what occasions Luke was referring to. Which only further reinforced his belief that there was something that was actively upsetting his father.
To his disappointment, if not his surprise, a silent warning passed between them.
"I'm always angry."
"Not like this," Luke shook his head. "Something else has been bothering you… and I'd like to help if I can."
"What you can do to help me, my son, is to not put yourself in unnecessary danger," Vader said sternly. "And trust that I will tell you the things that are necessary for you to know. I do not want to revisit this conversation again."
Shut up and leave it alone, basically.
Well. At least no one could say that he hadn't asked.
"Whatever," Luke agreed with a sigh, getting up to his feet and stretching a little. "If we aren't going to train tonight, then I am going to go take a nap."
Because if literally everyone on this ship was going to be pissed off at him moving forward, he was going to need a little more mental preparation in order to deal with it all. Just when things had seemed like they might get better, Luke thought with a shake of his head. This whole experience was turning out to be a massive crash course in learning not to care what other people thought about him. It sucked, really.
Vader being a gatekeeper in all things emotional wasn't new to him either but it was occasionally irritating. And he got it - he did, Luke didn't always feel the need to share his deep, dark emotions either. It wasn't how most guys were built. Vader just had a tendency to take it to a whole other level.
He sent a silentsee you laterin his father's direction and snatched his jacket back from the chair he'd left it on, turning around and intending to seek solitude for a few hours. He figured his father would have enough on his to-do list to keep him busy in the meantime.
"You still owe me three hundred push-ups." Vader called after him.
Luke dropped his head back with a sigh."Yeah, I know. Is that before or after my hand gets replaced?" he said, turning around in exasperation and lifting his ruined prosthetic up pointedly.
Some of the sterner emotions from his father eased after a few seconds. "I already have a few designs drawn up, in the event that your current one failed on you. I will send you the files to look over and you can pick whichever one appeals to you the most. Modifications can be made as well, if you so desire. Once you decide what you want, it can be completed and ready within a few hours."
Awesome.
"Lucky me," Luke said flatly. "You'll get your push-ups later."
Vader hummed at him before turning away to leave. "Get some rest."
A/N Action scenes are not my forte. I did my best though. Also, bear in mind that relationships are not perfect and that all the love and caring in the world will not stop two people from being annoyed and irritated at each other. Such is life.
Also, just in case anyone in concerned - developing Luke's character is really important to me. I know where I want him to end up and I think it's natural throughout the course of the way things go, for people to question themselves. One of the big themes of Return of the Jedi was whether or not Luke would Fall to the Dark Side like Vader. In this position, living within the Empire, even with all the promise and assurance from Vader that he has received, I think it is more of a question that he has for himself, rather than an expectation from the audience.
Thanks so much for reading!
